The Road That Has No End

By Joseph Burrows

Hast ever tramped along the road

That has no end?

The far brown winding road, your one

Fast friend

A tattered weather-beaten swag,

A silent mate

To send

His dumb warm comfort to the heart,

A fount where dreams ascend.

There's wondrous freedom on the road

That has no end;

A man's heart glows, his spirit leaps

To blend

Its joy of life with fierce wind's gust

Upon his face:

To lend

Its cry to Nature's tumult, full

And shrill, as twilight shades descend.

The flowers bloom along the road

That has no end

Cool breezes blow, the gum trees sway

And bend;

The wild doves woo, and softly coo

Their soothing notes,

And mend

Heart's throbbing pain to sweet content,

And peace lights on the mind's sad trend

There's pain and toil along the road

That has no end;

A sinking heart, and weary feet

That spend

Their strength, and lag and crave respite;

And dim tired eyes

That tend

To close their heavy lids upon

The stinging dusts that upward wend.

There are sweet still hours along the road

That has no end

'Neath twinkling stars when night's deep shades

O'erpend;

A man's eyes shine with gathered tears,

And memories come

To rend

His straining heart strings, while above

The paling lights his mood commend.

I love the road, the swagman's road

That has no end;

I love its joys, that pains and toils

Transcend;

It is my dreams, the life that fills my heart

And when death comes and would

My peacefulness

Amend,

I pray that God may let my soul depart

With my tattered swag beside me,

'Mid my friends that never chide me,

And my face towards the distant clouded hill,

Where leads the far brown winding road

That has no end.

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